The Sixth Layer of the Abyss.

Orion led the Conquest Legion back to the Foundry Citadel, leaving behind a monument at the Donough Blood-Crow Nest—a burning ziggurat composed of thousands of corpses, a pyre that lit up the dark horizon.

This victory was more than just a conquest; it was a declaration.

The residents of the Foundry Citadel finally witnessed the chilling resolve of Orion as an Abyssal Lord and the overwhelming might of the Conquest Legion. The code of laws Orion had established was no longer just text on a wall; after this battle, those laws became absolute iron.

Not a single race or individual dared to whisper a word of dissent against the collective will of the Foundry Citadel.

It was the cohesion forged in blood—expected, yet still profound.

However, the entire Conquest Legion knew better than to relax. The war was far from over; in fact, they had entered a state of heightened, razor-edged readiness. If the Foundry Citadel intended to drive its roots deep into the Sixth Layer, the challenges ahead would be relentless.

In the Abyss, any ancient city that had stood for millennia had weathered storms of violence that would shatter lesser settlements. Whether it was challenges from rival Abyssal Lords or natural catastrophes like the Gray World, the road ahead for the Foundry Citadel was long and treacherous.

The Abyssals who had sworn fealty to the Citadel understood this well.

A rising faction was always hungry for talent. Despite the brutal war, the population within the territory hadn't dwindled. On the contrary, it was booming. There were plenty of sharp-eyed opportunists in the Abyss who saw the Foundry Citadel for what it was: a golden ticket to power, status, and strength.

In a nascent faction, the hierarchy is never set in stone. To the ambitious, the current state of the Foundry Citadel was a ladder to the stars, begging to be climbed.

"My Lord, the Hive has reached its Apex State."

Orion had barely warmed his throne in the Four-Sided Tower when Standard-bearer Vex rushed in with the news.

"The Demonic Maggot Nest has fully evolved?"

This was a genuine surprise.

A standard Demonic Maggot Nest wasn't exactly a rarity in the Abyss, but one that had evolved to its highest stage? That was a treasure beyond price.

Years ago, Orion had salvaged a primitive Nest from an Abyssal Tributary. Upon establishing the Foundry Citadel, he had entrusted it to Vex. Vex, having evolved from a Demonic Maggot himself, understood the creature's needs better than anyone.

For over a decade, that Nest had gorged on endless streams of Abyssal energy and rare materials.

As far as Orion knew, a Demonic Maggot Nest was categorized by the quality of the brood it produced. The most primitive nests could only churn out featureless, attribute-less larvae—mindless grubs capable only of eating and crawling. The Nest Orion had originally found belonged to this bottom tier, usually ignored by powerful Abyssals.

But under the Citadel's lavish care, it had become a behemoth.

A Behemoth-class Nest didn't just produce elemental maggots with specialized affinities; it had the potential to birth full-fledged Demons directly.

This was why Vex was so eager to report.

This Hive had been cultivated by the Foundry Citadel from its infancy. It bore the spiritual imprint of Orion and the Conquest Legion down to its very core. Any Demon hatched from this Nest would be born with unwavering loyalty to the Legion.

Compared to mercenaries or recruited wanderers, the Demons birthed from the Hive were Trueborn—blood of their blood.

"Yes, My Lord!" Vex beamed. "From this day forward, the Conquest Legion has its own sustainable source of soldiers."

A smile spread across Orion's face. The maturation of the Hive meant the Foundry Citadel finally had a foundation that could last for generations. As long as they held their ground, the Legion's depth of power would accumulate until they were unstoppable.

"Excellent," Orion said, his voice resonating with satisfaction. "The First Army brought back a massive haul of supplies. Go to Bidalun. Tell him to divert thirty percent of the spoils to your department."

"From now on, I want the Foundry Citadel's Hive running at full capacity. We are playing the long game here. The effort we put in today secures our dominance for a thousand years."

Orion's smile deepened. Ten years of entrenchment in the Abyss had built a formidable reserve of power. Beyond the tangible assets, the sheer amount of Faith Energy the Foundry Citadel had harvested was staggering.

This energy hadn't just fed the Stoneheart Horde; it had fed back into Orion and the Legion's high command. The ascension of Eparus, Holrivus, Thronlis, Xalathar, Ashreign, and Bidalun to the rank of Arch Lord was proof enough.

Orion was waiting for the moment he would ascend to Demigod status. When he finally consolidated the Faith Energy from all the worlds under his sway, he would reach his peak.

But that day was not today.

The Abyss. The Uncharted Depths.

It was a gloomy subterranean metropolis, illuminated only by the eternal, flickering fel-fire dancing in iron sconces.

This was a hidden stronghold, a branch headquarters of the Chaos Demon House Julius.

In a colossal obsidian hall, shadowed and grim, an old man was performing his routine prayers before a statue of a Chaos Demon.

Suddenly, a statue on the side wall—one depicting Arch Lord Eudan—shattered.

CRACK.

Fragments of stone rained down as a wisp of a remnant soul spiraled out from the debris, screaming a silent, terrified death knell before dissipating.

"Another one dead."

The old man glanced up, indifferent to the soul fading out of the hall. He calmly began sweeping up the rubble of the broken statue to make room for the next family descendant.

Death was a mundane occurrence for a massive clan like House Julius.

The Abyss was vast. The scions of House Julius were scattered across countless planes. It was inevitable that some would provoke entities they had no business crossing. Their deaths were simply fate weeding out the weak.

Among the endless stream of descendants, only a handful ever truly rose to prominence. Only those Chaos Demons who ascended were granted a formal name by House Julius. And those who truly earned the surname "Julius" were exclusively Demigod-level powerhouses.

Most of those powerhouses went on to establish their own family lines.

"Insolent cur! You go too far!"

"You slaughter my kin and destroy my Demigod phantom? You dare treat me with such contempt?!"

"This isn't over... This is not over!"

Outside the great hall, as the wisp of soul vanished, a roar erupted from the depths of the underground city, shaking the very foundations.

It was the fury of a Demigod of House Julius.

Chaos Demons were, by nature, volatile and prone to explosive rage. They were malicious, arbitrary, and devoid of moral constraints.

Orion's actions on the Sixth Layer had thoroughly antagonized a powerful entity here.

The Demigod's roar wasn't just a vent of frustration; it was a rallying cry. He was summoning his kin.

They were preparing to descend upon the Sixth Layer. They intended to hunt down the Lord who had dared to execute their descendant, and they would burn his legacy to ash.

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